Page 106 of The Isles of the Gods
It’s evening, and most of the town is here. The woman behind the rough timber counter has a round face, her hair pulled up in a coiled crown of braids, her cheeks reddened by years in the wind.
The patrons look like sailors mostly, clad in rough trousers and shirts. A fire roars in the fireplace, half a dozen pairs of seaboots tipped over in front of it so their insides can dry.
The hubbub of conversation dies away as Jude and Dasriel take their places behind me, one at either shoulder. Dasriellooms silently, and Jude is inscrutable—reluctant, I know, but he’ll do as he’s told.
All around us drinks are set down, and every face turns toward us.
I couldn’t be more out of place here, in my city suit and waistcoat, my hair neatly razored at the back of my neck. But after years of feeling uncomfortable, years of looking to Ruby to see what I should do, years of hoping I would be good enough, I’m done with that.
If Ruby would rather confide in Sister Beris, then I’ll showbothof them I’m worth listening to. Who better to understand a god who’s been bound for so long, unable to reach for his power—unable to show the world his might?
Here and now I’m the most powerful person in this room, and the odds are good Dasriel is the only one with a gun. Theyshouldpay attention to me.
I wait until they’re completely silent before I speak. “Someone just came in here and bought a boat.”
My statement is greeted by a sea of blank faces.
Forcing myself to patience, I wait. Eventually, it’s the woman behind the bar who speaks.
“Well, what I sell in here is food and drink. Can I get you some of either? We have lodgings as well.”
Jude shifts his weight uncomfortably behind me, but I ignore him, holding out one hand—palm up—to Dasriel, without turning my head.
He puts a heavy leather bag into it, and I walk toward the nearest table, pulling the laces at the neck of the bag undone.
Slowly, deliberately, I open it, and a shower of golden dollarsclatters onto the tabletop. Some ricochet to the floor, rolling away to hide in the shadows.
I let them go, as if I have so much money, so many more dollars, that it doesn’t matter if I lose these ones. In among the hoard lies a pair of rubies my sister gave me as a gift when I turned sixteen, and they glitter as they catch the firelight.
This small bag holds everything I have left.
I lift my head and look around the room once more.
If Leander and his crew beat me to the Isles, well, I have a plan for that, set in motion before I left Port Naranda.
But I intend to hunt them down myself.
“Someone just came in here and bought a boat,” I repeat. “Whoever crews the ship that helps me catch them can have all of this, and twice as much again when we return.”
I drop the empty leather bag onto the top of the pile and look around the tavern, slowly taking in their faces.
Their expressions are very different now.
I smile.
“Who’s ready to set sail?”
SELLY
TheEmma
The Crescent Sea
It’s dawn when we know for sure we’re not alone.
We’d planned to spend the night in port, to give me a chance to familiarize myself with our new boat, to give Leander and me a chance to go over the map in the journal and our new charts properly, and to give all of us the chance to get some sleep.
That changed after we saw Laskia, Jude, and their huge magician making their way down from the station—we cast off in a flurry of activity, dumping our supplies below, pushing off as we hoisted the sails.
